


Hardships Unnumbered

by Xaraphis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:22:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaraphis/pseuds/Xaraphis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Labyrinth AU. Her life in shreds, Molly makes a wish in a moment of absolute devastation. With the help of a reluctant companion, she must conquer the horrors that await her in the Labyrinth, defeat the Goblin King and retrieve that which was stolen. Sherlolly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything here.
> 
> A/N: This take on a Sherlolly Labyrinth story is one I’ve been thinking on for a while. It seems I’ve finally mustered up the courage to go for it. Thank you to my wonderfully talented big sis/beta Alethnya for editing this for me and being my sounding board. I give fair warning that this is going to be incredibly emotional and angst-filled. Thank you everyone for reading and I hope it’s up to snuff.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, not a single cloud in sight. Molly stood with her arms crossed, fingertips digging into the soft skin of her upper arms. A gentle breeze rustled the deep green foliage before her, causing the water of her little garden fountain to dance in the sunlight. Though she stood staring out the window, Molly barely saw the beauty before her. The day had a luminous, ethereal quality to it. Days like this had once filled her mind with ideas of fantasy and of love. Oh, how she would twirl in the light, basking in the warmth of the sun where usually there was nothing but a steady cover of grey-kissed clouds.  She had once been so innocent and so full of dreams.

 

Her mind pulled her from her thoughts, fully taking in the soft world before her. The beauty was so at odds with how she felt; this glorious day mocked her, made her ache so much she could barely breathe. How could the day be so beautiful when her entire life had fallen to pieces?

 

Just as that little girl who had twirled in the sunlight had hoped and dreamed, she _had_ fallen in love. She had fallen in love with a mad whirlwind of a man; a beautiful man with even more beautiful gifts of dedication, of perseverance and of observation. She’d fallen in love with a man who had nearly sacrificed his life for the family of his best friend. Somewhere along the way, he claimed to have fallen in love with her too; not that he’d ever said those exact words, but it had certainly been implied. So, she had set up house with him and they’d had a child together. A man who hurt her more than she deserved and far more than he ever realized. The very man who had disappeared three days prior, and had finally sent word this very morning.

 

One word, that is.

 

Her eyes dropped from their unseeing perusal of the dream world before her to the screen of her phone. _Sorry_. He’d sent nothing else. That single word had settled like a stone in her stomach.  He wasn’t coming back. She squeezed her eyes shut as she set her phone down, willing the barrage of images of their life together from flooding her mind. Happy times, sad times.

 

Sherlock hesitantly kissing their daughter for the very first time. He had been terrified in that moment as she had never seen him before, but she knew it for what it was; he was afraid of just how much emotion that small human invoked in him.  The first time he had left on a case and had forgotten to tell her—oh, the fight that had followed _that_ _one_. Her mind had conjured up horrible scenario after horrible scenario until she finally got word from Mary that Sherlock and John were away on a case _didn’t he tell you_? They had fought and raged at one another before the heat of anger turned into another kind entirely; they had _almost_ made it to the bedroom.

 

What had started as a happy, peaceful family, unraveled slowly into chaos and turmoil. She went from content partner, to feeling like an endless nag in less than the course of a year. As the caseload increased, his family time decreased. She had started to wonder if he went looking for cases in an attempt to escape domesticity. When cases that, long ago, would have been deemed _barely a 4_ started to become _an 8, Molly! You can hardly expect me to be stuck here when there’s an 8 to be solved;_ she couldn’t help but worry.

 

 _Stuck here._ As times like that grew in frequency, she stopped asking, stopped complaining. His reasoning for why being somewhere else was more important than being a family together…it _burned_ her; it burned her right to the quick.

 

She turned around to the sleeping form of their daughter, asleep in her play pen. With a sigh she felt in her bones, she moved closer. Taking in her chubby, yet impossibly soft cheeks, her dark lashes against her pale skin and the already unruly mop of black curls that were beginning to peek over the smooth skin of her forehead and curl over the tops of her ears. Nearly 17 months old, Sabrina Holmes was a beautiful baby with a gentle disposition. She slept so soundly. Tears pricked Molly’s eyes; Sabrina had no idea that her world had been turned upside down. She wouldn’t know why her daddy wouldn’t be coming home.

 

Tears blurred Molly’s vision at that thought, her throat closing in an attempt to quell the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. She cleared her throat and blew out a breath, balling her fists up at her sides. She had to keep it together. She had to be strong. Her daughter deserved for one of her parents to stay strong.

 

On the verge of breaking down, she moved to the wall of bookcases that lined the side of their cottage living room. Without knowing what she was looking for, she found herself standing before the collection of books that had gotten her through the difficult times of childhood. One book in particular.

 

Her finger tipped the book toward her before her hand settled on the spine, wiggling it free. She rubbed her hand lovingly on the spine of the book, _Labyrinth._ This book, this doorway into a world of fantasy, had gotten her through the mysterious illness and death of her father; through the subsequent mental and emotional withdrawal and…death…of her mother. Within it’s pages, the story of a quest to retrieve the child that had been stolen; of a young girl coming into her own as she befriends companions, defeats the villainous Goblin King and finally rescues the child she sought.

 

Good defeating Evil at the hands of an ordinary girl. It had always been her favorite; it had always encouraged her where few other books could. Her world had been so black and white back then; so full of possibilities for what she would become.  Reality had been a far more bitter thing, with more shadows than she had ever dreamed.  Maybe, just maybe, she could find a little bit of comfort in its over-worn pages. Settling into the chair closest to her with one last glance at the sleeping form of her daughter, she opened the book.

 

* * *

 

 

Sabrina was crying. Had been crying for nearly an hour. She had woken up from her nap groggy but pleasant, but determinedly not looking at Molly. When Molly spoke her name, Sabrina’s eyes would dart to hers for only a second before she began her search of the room once more.

 

Molly’s heart sunk. Looking around for a toy, _anything_ to distract Sabrina from what she sought, dread bubbled up in Molly’s stomach as tears threatened to blur her vision. She saw where her daughter had thrown her favorite toy out of the playpen and dove to retrieve it.

 

“Dada?”

 

That simple, innocently spoken word that had been answered a thousand times before by gentle soothing and the promise of ‘soon’ wrapped around her heart, stopping her cold.  Frozen on hands and knees, fingers clutching desperately into the soft, grey wolf Sherlock had bought her after a particularly trying case, Molly could not stop the tears any longer. Head bowed, she found herself focusing on the way her hair draped around her, the way the brown tendrils brushed against the floor as she desperately fought to maintain control.

 

“ _Dada?”_

Sabrina’s voice was more persistent that time, which only made the tears flow faster. Molly, body shaking with the force of trying to keep her pain silent, dropped her head to the floor as the nails of her free hand dug into the carpet. _Get it together. Don’t let her see you cry. It will only scare her. Stop crying._

Her inner voice growled those thoughts at her and she was able to calm, able to take a deep breath. Blowing it out slowly, she wiped her tears from her cheeks and raised her head to meet the inquisitive brown eyes of her daughter.

 

She steadied herself; breathing in a few more slow breaths before she blew out one final shaky exhale. She brushed her fingers down Sabrina’s soft, plump cheek. “Soon.”

 

The lie tasted sour in her mouth, but what choice did she have?

 

Sabrina wouldn’t understand. Molly could barely understand. She thought they had been okay. Things had been rocky at times between balancing his torrent of cases and family life, but she would have never dreamt it would come to this.

 

Two hours and about 30 more ‘dada’s’ later, was when Sabrina had started to cry. Molly had tried everything to distract her, to soothe her, but she would not let go. Sherlock had been Sabrina’s knight, her highlight of every day that she saw him.

 

Each ‘dada’ wailed in that tiny voice dug a little deeper, made the betrayal sting a bit hotter. It felt as if any moment he would walk through that door as if the past three days never happened. That he really had just run to investigate a crime scene and come right back like he said he was going to; that he had simply found a case and run with it, forgetting to inform her of it as he had done a handful of times in the past. But this time was different. She had called John. He wasn’t coming back. The Watson’s had offered to come and see her, to help her. She could barely keep it together _alone…_ how was she to manage with someone else in the house? No, this was better. At least, it felt like it might be.

 

Humming softly to Sabrina and bouncing her gently in her arms as she screamed and wailed for the man that was not coming for, Molly tried to get lost in the familiarity of the song. She paced the length of the living room, keeping her pace in time with the lullaby. If she focused on the lullaby, maybe she wouldn’t cry again.

 

After ten minutes of that attempt with no change in Sabrina whatsoever, Molly set Sabrina back down in her playpen **.** Frustration began to bubble up in Molly—frustration and anger at the man who left her here, the man who had abandoned his responsibilities. In his selfishness, he had left her to do everything. He had run away from the life they built together. Anger so violent it burned coursed through her, burning away the lingering sorrow. The feeling of betrayal overwhelmed her, making her hands shake as she tore to the other side of the room.

 

Her daughter had begun to shriek in ear-piercing screams. She couldn’t do this. _Oh God, she couldn’t do this._ How was she going to do _everything_? Her mind brought forth images of her future, images that had always been of her and Sherlock raising their daughter, callously erased as if they’d never existed. Sabrina’s first school play, her first date, graduating school, heading to uni. Every single dream crumbled to ash in her minds eye, overwhelming her. Tears began to flow again in a torrent as wracking sobs shook her body.

 

Every heartache. Every sickness. Every. Single. Thing. She was forced to do it alone now, because he _left._

 

_How **dare** he._

Lifting her head, Molly caught site of the Labyrinth book from the table beside her chair. Overcoming obstacles, coming into your own… _lies._ There was no encouragement for this, no pretty story that would make this all go away. There was no room for fantasy here; _this_ was her reality. She snatched up the book before hurling it across the room, knocking over a picture frame. The sound caused Sabrina to scream even louder. Unable to move, unable to think, Molly slapped her hands over her ears in an effort to drown out the sound as she sunk to the floor.

 

She couldn’t do this. Every whimper, every sob, shriek and murmur from her daughter pierced her, making her realize just how inadequate, just how incapable she felt. She couldn’t even keep her family together…how was she expected to raise a baby on her own?

 

A hiccupping sob tore out of her as her daughters screaming subsided into crying.

 

_You can’t do this. Mousy Molly Hooper, you think you’re good enough for this? That’s why he left, isn’t it? You were never enough._

 

That damning thought cycled on repeat in her head, her hands steadfastly clapped over her ears. In a moment of sheer desperation, Molly’s mind wandered to the book, to the words that would take anyone away…

 

“I wish they would take you away.” The moment those whispered words left her lips, she knew she didn’t mean them. Remorse and guilt snaked through her so strong they made her stomach sick even as her daughter’s cries faded into silence. With a sigh of pure relief, Molly calmed her breathing and focused on making her tears stop.

 

Enough was enough.

 

She opened her eyes and found…nothing. Pure _nothing_. A suffocating darkness surrounded her, silent and completely still. She shot to her feet and looked to where her daughter was, her memory leading her where her eyes could not see, but there was nothing there; the chairs that should have been in her way, the gate of the playpen—all gone.

 

Panicked and beyond coherent thought, Molly spun around in an effort to see something. “Sabrina? _Sabrina **!** ” _She ran around the space, hands flailed out in an attempt to grasp something— _anything—_ hoping against hope that the room wasn’t the empty space it very much appeared to be. Sabrina wasn’t here. It was impossible, but she was _gone._ “ _Sabrina_?!”

“You’re wasting your breath,” a bored voice drawled from behind her.

 

She spun round to face the voice. The room remained dark, but a man stood not ten feet away, dark hair and lifeless eyes so dark they appeared black bored into hers. “Where’s my daughter? What’d you do with her?”

 

“Little Miss Molly, who slices up bodies. Oh, but you did _ask._ ”

 

Her blood ran cold. He couldn’t possibly mean…

 

 _“I asked what_?”

 

He walked toward her, the soft, almost angelic look of his face sharpened to something inexplicably menacing as he smiled at her. “Aw, now I’m a little disappointed. I mean, here I am doing you a favor and you’re not even thankful or anything.”

 

“What’re you talking about? ”

 

His lips quirked in a twisted smile. “We’ve taken her away.”

 

Her eyes darted from the man in front of her to where her daughter should have been. “No!” The word tore from her throat. “Where is she? How do you know my name? _Who are you_?”

 

“You already know who I am.” He looked pointedly to a spot behind her.

 

Her eyes followed his, to the book that lay on the floor, impossibly illuminated by nothing.

 

Labyrinth… _The Goblin King_ …but it _couldn’t_ be…

 

“That’s just a children’s book. That’s not even real!”

 

His eyes flared in challenge as he took a step toward her. “What _is_ real, little miss Molly? How do you know _you’re_ even real? That’s _she’s_ even real?”

 

“Stop it! Give her back to me!”

 

He ignored her outburst. “I’ve done you a favor. Think of all the drama I’m saving you from. _Teenage girls_ ,” here his brow furrowed as he blew a breathe out in exasperation, “better that we take her from you now.”

 

“No, I don’t want that!” Anger and fear lent an edge to her voice. “I didn’t mean it! I want my daughter back. Please, _please_ give her back to me!”

 

Here he sighed. “Boooooring. _Someone changing their mind_ …because _that_ doesn’t happen—Every. _Single_. _TIME!_ ” The scream of that final word echoed in the empty space around them.

 

Shaking, she steeled her will and pressed on. “ _Please.”_

 

He laughed, “Oh, that’s so adorable! Please, sir, can I have my baby back because I’m a terrible mother who wished her away?”

 

“NO! I didn’t,” the words ripped out of her. “I didn’t mean _her_!”

 

“Oh!” And here his eyes widened in excitement. “Oh, you meant _you?_ You wanted us to take _you_ away?” He clutched his hand over his heart, “ _Well, oh my stars,_ that _is_ a new one!”

 

Hope began to simmer in her chest. “So you’ll give her back to me?”

 

“Mmm…weeeelll…you see, there’s this _little_ detail that I can’t—well, I _can,_ but I _won’t_ —get around. You wished someone away, so it’s _someone_ we need.”

 

“This is ridiculous! That’s just some silly children’s book. Just give her back. Please, let her come back and take me instead. I didn’t even say it right!” She didn’t believe anything he was saying, not for one minute, but she was willing to give this madman anything he wanted if he would give her daughter back to her.

 

“You didn’t say it right _out loud_ , but it’s what your sad little heart meant when you said it, wasn’t it? That’s good enough for me.” His expression was hard as stone as he took a step toward her. “Taking you _instead_? Hmm… _noooo_ ,” here his eyes danced, “A new game, a new rule. We _will_ take you away, little Miss Molly, _but_ who will watch your poor little girl while you are so far away?” He couldn’t _possibly_ mean…“So, I think _we’ll_ hold on to her while _you_ try to make it through my Labyrinth.”

 

“You’re _mad!”_

With a twist of his lips, he tilted his head to the side, studying her. Sighing dramatically, he threw something from his hand—a hand that had been empty only moments before.

 

Instinctively catching the object, she lowered her gaze to observe the solid crystal ball. Before her eyes, the empty glass shifted. Images appeared; an endless maze shrouded in thick fog, jagged cliffs, and frozen lakes all flipped like the pages of a book before settling on a final image. Her daughter. Crying and alone in a dark room with walls of such polished black that they _shone_. Tears burned and blurred Molly’s vision as a sickening certainty began to take hold. Horrified, she tore her eyes from the image of her daughter to the impossible man before her.

 

He was _grinning_. “My Labyrinth isn’t like the sweet little place in that book, dearie.”

 

Sweet is hardly the word Molly would have used to describe the book from her childhood, but what choice did she have? This was real. This was real and it was really happening; she didn’t have a choice, and they both knew it. She turned her attention back to the object in her hand, just before it gently popped, disappearing into thin air like a soap bubble.

 

Swallowing down her fear, Molly lifted her chin and met his eyes head on. “I _will_ get her back.”

 

He slowly walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped not three feet away from her, lifeless eyes boring into hers. “You’ll try. No one’s ever made it through _my_ Labyrinth before. Before you can make it to the end, I’ll have broken you. By the end, I’ll have burned away everything that you are. You won’t remember who she is; you won’t even remember who you are.” The cold of his eyes twisted into something that very much looked like madness. “Have fuuuun.”

 

The singsong tone of that final word sent chills down her spine as the floor gave out from beneath her, sending her tumbling into the dark.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing
> 
> Thank you everyone for the comments/kudos/favs/follows! I appreciate every one so much! Thanks to my big sis Alethnya for beta-ing. Happy holidays, everyone!

Dark instantly turned into dull light. She was falling through a cloud of fog, thick and grey, that cleared almost as quickly as it had appeared. With her vision now unobstructed, rough and rocky ground rushed up to meet her. In the next moment, she collided with the ground, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of her as mud and snow splattered up into her face. Gasping for air, she rolled onto her side just in time for a pair of pristinely polished shoes to walk into her line of sight.

“Whoopsie! I don’t know why, but I _always_ forget to mention that part.”

Rubbing her stomach, Molly winced as she gingerly rolled up onto her knees. Full and welcome breaths finally filled her lungs as she slowly straightened her back. Locking her eyes onto his, she stared him down with the most vicious scowl she could muster—covered in mud, shivering and wincing in pain, she hardly cut the most formidable image. Steeling her aching body and will in equal measure, Molly climbed to her feet with as much grace as she could manage.

"Then again," he smiled at where her hand rubbed carefully at her ribs before his eyes fell on her other hand. Having been cut on a particularly sharp stone when she landed, Molly held it open carefully at her hip as hot, thick blood began to run over her palm and down her fingertips. “I’ve never been able to resist a good fall.”

“So you...you’re the Goblin King, aren’t you?” Molly glared at him, not at all sharing in his source of delight. It _hurt_ to be completely honest, but she certainly wasn’t giving him any bit of the reaction that she knew he wanted.

“Ugh, that name is so overdone, don’t you think? It’s so _boring_. I’ve got _so_ much more than goblins up my sleeve and in my pocket, but you’ll find that out soon enough.” The light, almost childlike way he bounced his words was incredibly jarring. You could so easily mistake this man for _harmless_ in one moment, but then _those eyes_ would turn your insides to stone in the next.

The thick fog that had shrouded her fall from Reality surrounded them, creating an impenetrable ring that sufficiently blotted out everything beyond it. “Where are we?” The cold of the air stung her cheeks, causing her breath to puff up in little clouds.

“I like to consider this the staging area.” His eyes flicked to the fog before he smiled. “Can't have you just strolling in, so there are a few things to cover before little miss Molly carries on with her folly.”

Her anger sparked. “I won’t…” He pinned her with a vicious glare and took a warning step toward her.

“Na-uh-uh! Bad girl, daddy’s talking. If you want to see your dear, sweet little baby again, you’ll hush up.” He _winked_ at her before he smiled once more. “Now, rules! I don’t like to give too many,” he leaned in toward her before whispering as if telling a secret, “it gives the game away. Buuuut,” again that singsong tone that set her teeth on edge, “what kind of game would this be if it didn’t have _rules_!” He mocked.

The smile melted from his face as he stepped right up to her, his black eyes hardening ruthlessly. “You have 7 days from the moment you set foot in my Labyrinth. You put one foot _outside_ of my Labyrinth—I’ll kill you and your little daughter will become one of us. You’ll never see her again and she’ll never be free. You’ll be facing all kinds of fun things in there. And I must admit, some of them are a real _doozy_.” The self-satisfied smile he flashed then made her skin crawl, “because I’m _so_ generous, my people will come to your aide if you so choose. I warn you, dearie, you might not want their help. They can be a bit…unmanageable, you know.” He sniffed against the cold, his eyes falling to the fog once more, as if he could see past the barrier. He probably could, now that she thought of it…

“The path I’ve set, is the path you’ll take,” he said. “No shortcuts. No exceptions.” he smiled before pinning her with a malicious scowl, “you try to cheat—I’ll _skin_ you. I don’t usually like getting my hands dirty, but if you _cheat_ , I will gladly peel the flesh off your ordinary little bones. Honestly, I’m probably just going to kill you anyway.” His words washed over her, gripped tight, causing her to shiver in fear more than the cold. “You _sure_ you don’t just want to give up and go home? I mean, _look at it_ ,” he motioned to the space around them and the fog shifted and thinned. They were standing on the side of a hill. Before them, stretching in every direction was an endless maze of towering stone. The very image she had seen in the crystal ball not ten minutes past. “You’ll never make it.”

Opening her mouth to speak, Molly stopped again, her voice lost beneath the torrent of every single thing she was feeling. She turned away from him, her eyes absorbing the enormity of the scene before her. The winding maze with a steady cover of fog was far more ominous, far _greater_ than she had ever imagined in her youth. The entrance was now more visible than it had been; a narrow yet high opening flanked by two very tall figures. Far in the distance she could see the outline of a castle, it’s turrets pointing into the sky like daggers. “How will I know that I’m on the path you’ve set? Its enormous, I could so easily go the wrong way and not even know it!”

“Oh, you’ll know when you go where you’re not wanted. _Believe me_.”

She nodded only slightly at that. It was absolutely not a comfort, but what choice did she have? She thought of her daughter, alone. Crying. Or even worse…in _his_ care. “What if I do make it to the castle?”

“ _If_ you do make it to the castle—and I do mean _if_ —you can take your baby home and live your _perfect_ life alone. But first you have to make it through the labyrinth, through the city beyond _and then_ try to make it through my castle. As I said before…are you _sure_? I mean, think about how much easier your life would be if you just went home right now.”

The fear that had been bubbling in her threatened to boil over as the thought of her daughter with him, with _them_ , made her stomach turn. She squeezed her eyes shut, and focused on carefully controlling her breathing. Slowly, she forced her mind to focus on her daughter smiling and laughing. The fear began to subside as she latched onto the image her mind painted of Sabrina’s tiny body sleeping soundly, peacefully in her very own bed. The gentle sound of her tiny snore, the way her eyes would dance beneath her lids while she dreamt; Molly held on to that image, strengthened herself with it.

She would do this. Not only that, she would _beat him_. She would win and she would take her baby home. “Not a chance in hell.”

He genuinely laughed at that. “Oh, but you have no idea.”

Molly turned then, daring a glance up at his eyes as they shone. Shuddering inwardly, she turned back to the endless maze before her. If she just focused on Sabrina, maybe the task itself would seem far less daunting. Her mind absorbed the maze before her, following the twists and turns as if she could somehow work out its secrets from up here on the hilltop.

A moment passed before his voice rose from behind her. “You going to just stand there? Those dangers aren’t just going to face themselves, missy.”

With a deep breath she moved toward the entrance of the Labyrinth. The walls stretched up into the sky, the tops of which were lost somewhere in the dense fog that covered the labyrinth more and more with each step she took toward it. The snow crunched beneath her feet as she made her way to the worn, dirt path that would take her inside. The two figures at the entrance felt as if they grew taller the closer she got—somewhere around nine feet tall. With covered eyes and ominous talons that sprouted from large membranous wings, they stood silently, standing guard. With skin the black and grey speckled pattern of ash, they stood as still as statues. Not a breath or an ounce of movement. She suppressed a shiver; _please, God, let them be statues…_

She was at the border, the figures towering beside her and far too close for comfort. With one final step she would be inside the labyrinth and the clock would start ticking. With a steadying breath, she began to move forward.

“By the way!”

She froze, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for him to continue. When he did not, she slowly turned her head to look back at him.

“Mind the walls.”

Her blood ran cold at his casually delivered warning. “Why?”

He smirked even as his gaze stabbed at hers, filled with such malicious intent that it made her stomach drop. “Nah, that’ll ruin the surprise. Now, off you pop.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she took two steps across the border. Blowing the breath out, she chanced a glance behind her. The entrance—the Goblin King, the figures, the hilltop beyond—were gone. In its place was a wall of rock, the same rock that the labyrinth was constructed out of. Smooth and cut with what looked like razor precision, each rock fit into one another, creating an impossibly perfect seal. She turned round to inspect the walls of the maze before her.

The way the wall was constructed meant there were no footholds; no vines covered the walls, simply an endless expanse of polished, perfectly cut stone. The stone was so beautiful. The way the polished surfaces glistened, even in the dull light; the way each stone perfectly fit into the one next to it. She felt herself inexplicably pulled in by it, almost as if the stones _wanted_ to be touched. His final warning sounded in her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut to focus on something other than that which was before her.

She needed to be mindful of the walls…for some reason.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she kept herself as far away from the walls as she could manage. Snow lay in small piles, dotting the path before her in slowly melting puddles. Thankfully the ground beneath her feet had transitioned to gravel, so keeping her feet was not as horrible as she had feared. The journey through was slow, but it certainly felt never-ending. The path stretched out endlessly before her and behind her, not a turn or a bend in sight.

She had seven days. This endless beginning was meant to deter, to instill hopelessness before the journey had even truly begun. She had been walking for only twenty minutes—a twist or a turn was bound to appear soon.

It had to.

As it stretched on an on, the fog from above settled a little lower, filling the space not ten feet above her head. With the little bit of light that had been shining down blotted out, the way was suddenly that much harder to see. She found herself drifting to the wall, her fingertips nearing it in an attempt to anchor her to keep moving forward.

_Mind the walls._

Blinking through the fog that had started to settle over her mind, Molly turned her attention to the stones. Those beautiful, impossibly smooth stones. The longer she gazed upon them, the more exquisitely the flecks of gold and onyx began to shimmer. The longer she stared the flecks appeared to nearly _glow_. She could feel a pull inside of her, a pull to touch the tips of her fingers to that polished surface. It looked so much like stone, but yet it didn’t. Surely one touch wouldn’t be that terrible of a thing?

She reached a little further, her fingers nearly there, when a large hand clamped down on her wrist, yanking it away from the wall.

Startled and instantly on point, Molly swung around to face the figure. Long draping fabric filled her vision as her eyes swept from the ground up. Fear rose in her as she remembered the figures from the front of the Labyrinth. She began to tremble far more than she had been from the mere cold. Her eyes at last rose to the head of the figure. Standing tall, but nowhere near as tall as the figures from the front of the Labyrinth, Molly’s fear abated only slightly. The figure before her wore a cloak, the hood was drawn, hiding the face from view.

They stood there for a long moment, neither of them moving. The person holding her stood just as still, frozen in place. Not a word, not a sound rose up between them. Molly, wide-eyed and desperately attempting to calm her nerves that had sky rocketed once more, stared into the shrouded black of where she hoped the face of the person holding her would be.

Swallowing down a mountain of fear, she practically forced herself to speak. “Thank you.” After all, this person had done her a favor. Well, at least _hopefully_ they had done her a favor. She only had the King’s word that she should take care with the walls. Heaven only knew what would have happened to her if she had touched potentially frostbitten skin to smooth, cold stone. Unless this was one of his Goblins, taking human form? What was it from the book? _Things aren’t always what they seem…_

Still unable to see any face, Molly watched the head of the figure tilt slightly to the side. A movement that seemed so familiar, so much like…

Without a word, the person released her wrist and turned and walked away from her. Nearing a portion of wall not twenty feet away from her, it looked as if the unknown person was about to collide with it.

“Wait! How long does this path go for? It hasn’t turned, it hasn’t bent at all. It feels as if it stretches out with every step I take.” Still without another word, he turned away from her, his foot preparing to rise in his final retreat. “Please! Please…I need to get my baby back.”

The cloaked figure froze. Turning its head to look back at her over its shoulder. With a deep sigh, they returned their gaze to the wall before them.

“Don’t touch the walls.”

She reared back at the sound of that voice, so incredibly familiar. That deep voice, that luscious baritone was once the most coveted sound of her existence. It was impossible. _How_ could he be here? And like _that_?

“ _Sherlock_?” The ragged whisper escaped through her chattering teeth.

He took a step forward before he froze again. His back went board-straight with tension as his gloved hands clenched at his sides. Spending only a moment thus, he took a step forward and disappeared through the wall without a backward glance.

She shook herself from her momentary stupor, her fleet flying into action as she approached the wall where he had disappeared. The vague outline of an opening was visible. So slight and so transparent, there was no way she would have noticed this if it had not been for… _him_ walking through the wall. Hesitant and a little more cautious of accidentally touching the wall, Molly walked through and found a completely separate corridor. She turned in either direction, but Sherlock was nowhere in sight.

“Sherlock?”

She picked one side of the corridor and kept walking. It couldn’t possibly be him, she just saw him three days ago. He had just sent her a text that very morning. No, this was the Labyrinth playing a trick on her. Things weren’t always what they seemed here, and indeed it looked as if part of this King’s game was to toy with the minds of the ones he wished to keep. Tears of frustration began to burn through her vision, blotting out the dull, grey light as she came upon empty turn after empty turn. She reached a fork, turning round to examine each pathway to see if she could catch a glimpse of him again; the man who was possibly Sherlock but most likely not.

There was one bright side: at least the path had twists and bends now.

With a deep sigh so thick it made her chest _ache_ , Molly made one last desperate whispered plea into the twisting maze, “Sherlock?” Snow began to fall, softly coating the ground as she waited for a reply, a footstep, an echo… _something_. But he was nowhere in sight. Just as swiftly as he had appeared, he was gone.


End file.
